


Cady x Jacob: Drabbles and One Shots

by blessshea



Category: Longmire (TV)
Genre: AUs, Drabbles, F/M, all the alternate universes belong to us y'all, cussing because Reasons, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-11 13:26:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8981731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blessshea/pseuds/blessshea
Summary: Random (truly) stuff that doesn't fit into my WIP chaptered story...don't expect full fleshed context or backstories here folks.Tags are subject to change at any time ;)





	1. Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't kidding, this one is SHORT.
> 
> This has been sitting around for months....figured it might well go here?!
> 
> *shrugs*

The beeping was shrill and constant, making her head pound even harder. She reached a boot clad foot out and kicked the stand of the vitals monitor making it hit the wall.

“I’ve had enough of this.” She gently pressed her palm against her bandaged ribs, scowling.

“I didn’t take you for one with aversions to hospitals.” Jacob said from the chair next to the hospital bed where she was perched.

She glared at the door, willing it to open. When it didn’t she fixed her eyes on him. “How’s the face?” She asked hoarsely with an edge of anger.

He raised an eyebrow at her tone and she sighed, then scowled in pain. “Fuck.”

“If it helps, that EMT you knew jammed him awfully hard setting his dislocated shoulder.” He said, conversationally. “You sure inspire violence in people.”

Snorting Cady shuffled forward on the bed, putting both feet on the floor. “That’s hilarious coming from the person that punched the guy in the face.”

“I don’t appreciate drunk drivers.” Jacob drawled.

She almost laughed, but ended up focusing on trying to rip the I.V. out of her arm.

“Cady, they’re going to yell at me when they come back in here.”

“You could stop me,” she muttered, as she peeled a long strip of tape off. She looked up when he didn’t respond to find him staring at her, butterfly bandages crinkled as he frowned. “No?” She teased, before focusing on her arm again.

“I already know better than to try to stop you when you get worked up.” He finally said, as the door pushed open.

The nurse glared at her pile of tape and gauze, but finished removing the I.V. and handed her a clipboard. “Fill all this out while we’re running your oxycodone script and then you’re free to go.” She quickly banged out of the room and Cady mimed rudely to her back.

Halfway through the second page she paled, whipping her head up to look at Jacob. “Shit.” 

He shifted in the chair, wincing as he leaned forward. “What?”

“I’m going to be high as kite on those stupid painkillers.” She griped as she rubbed at her eyes. “Damn, I was hoping to avoid having to fib up a backstory for this mess…I’ll have to get Vic to stay wi…”

He interrupted her ramble, reaching over to nudge her knee. “I can stay with you.”

“I…am going to be totally out of my mind….If you’re going to stay, I need you to be sure…that you’re not going to take anything I say personally.” She ducked her head, giving him a moment to think and finished the last of paperwork.

She heard the chair slide back, looking up in time to see him put on his jacket. “I normally don’t take anything you say personally.”

Cady huffed as he dodged her half serious attempt to chuck the pen at him, and hopped off the bed, clutching the clipboard to her chest. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”


	2. The Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IDEK....enjoy! this one's..longish?
> 
> There are a few things I'm still bugged by in this but...I've fiddled with it as much as I can handle

She sailed through the door, took two steps into the living room, and then backtracked. His hat brim hung off the kitchen table and he tapped his fingers against the shiny surface as she paused in the doorway.

“Dad.” Her eyebrows creased as she entered the room. “What are you doing….here…?”

His mouth turned up something between a smile and a grimace as he rubbed the accumulated scruff on his face. “I’ve been worried about you.”

She watched as he looked around room, taking in 3 days’ worth of unwashed coffee cups, and discarded random paraphernalia. The sound of her bag hitting the floor drew his gaze back to her as she sat down across from him.

“You’ve been worried, about me.” She repeated, a thread of amusement lacing her tone. “I’ve been worried about you too Dad.”

He appeared chastened, and lowly said, “Yeah, I know.” She watched as he seemed to case the room, again, and shuffled his long legs under the table. “You, uh, haven’t been staying here much lately.”

She blinked as his blunt observation and pressed her lips together briefly. “I’ve…slept in the office a few times this week.” A half-truth, but he wasn’t really asking. “How would you know anyway?”

He was quiet and she saw a look of reluctance pass over his face. “Your…bed isn’t made, and there’s a pile of mail on the coffee table.” He looped his finger in a mug handle and continued, “Plus, you normally don’t leave dirty dishes for this long.”

“You were snooping?!” The urge to get up and throttle him rose and fell as she glared at him.

“We used to tell each other things.” He continued, sounding mildly apologetic.

She remembered how she’d felt when she had said that very thing to Henry, months ago. _Let’s see where he takes this_ , she thought. 

“I’ll go first,” He started as he pulled a cellophane wrapped mint out of his pocket. “I’m seeing a therapist, professionally.”

She watched as he shoved the mint in his mouth and crinkled the wrapper between his fingers. 

“You’re _voluntarily_ seeing a therapist?” She finally said, breaking the silence.

“Yup.”

Cady snorted as she unwound her scarf, dropping it on top of her bag. “Wow, so, what made you come over and wait for me to show up?”

“I wanted to talk, see how you’re….doing…..I know haven’t been…supportive, these last few months.” He trailed off as he straightened up in the chair.

“Going for that whole tall intimidation thing?” She joked. When he frowned she exhaled loudly, and took a second to toe her boots off, discarding them under the table. Pinning him with a sharp look she continued, “You really want to know how I’m doing? You might not like it.”

He raised an eyebrow, itching at his scruffy face again as he leaned forward. “I asked.”

 _On your own head be it._ She thought, as she debated on where to start. “I....am finally as adjusted as I’m going to get about shooting J.P. It’s been tough. Things are really picking up steam at the legal aid. I’m juggling 2 domestic abuse cases, 1 civil suit, and a nasty CPS injunction right now. I’m also trying to get the county and the Rez to agree to open a woman’s shelter which has so much red tape—”

“What happened to your ankle?” 

Apparently therapy hadn’t cured him of his habit of interrupting people and she would’ve laughed if she hadn’t been wracking her brain with a way to avoid his question. She hadn’t talked about this with anyone, save 2 out of 4 people that had been present. She studied him from across the table, his eyes were clearer than they’d been in months, there was no tremor in his hands, no tightness in his jaw. Nothing that screamed, ‘I’m an unstable asshole.’ 

“You had a slight limp when you walked in.” He volunteered when a full minute had passed and she was still silent. 

She rubbed her fingers against the cuff of her borrowed sweater as she quickly debated the pros and cons of her next move, then met his gaze, “I shot Malachi.” 

The wrapper floated down to the floor as he gaped at her. “ _You_ shot Malachi. That’s…those…” His face went through waves of shock and anger, and he appeared to be trying to calm himself as he closed his eyes.

“You’re not _exactly_ welcome on the Crow Reservation after everything with Gab” She started, taking advantage of his silence. “…and…we all wanted the same thing, Henry rescued. You might not have wanted it but I wanted Jacob’s name cleared.” Cady shoved her hand in her pocket, making sure her phone was still there if she needed to use any of her speed dials.

“ _You_ shot Malachi.” He repeated, as if saying it would make it less true.

Apprehensively she buffed microscopic dust off the table with her sweater sleeve and shoved her chair away from the table slightly. “After you totally lost your mind at the casino Jacob made a few calls, I did too. Eventually we found out that Malachi had been at The Red Pony, which didn’t exactly give us warm and fuzzy vibes. A few more phone calls after that and we had a pretty strong suspicion where he’d taken Henry. Jacob tried to convince me to go talk to you while he got a head start but you weren’t answering my calls so he very reluctantly agreed to let me come. I kept trying to call you, off and on up until we found Henry, then I was busy trying to keep him…conscious. We stopped to figure out how the hell to get back across the river with an injured person when Malachi and his idiot ambushed us. I was closest, unfortunately for me.” She stopped as she felt her phone buzzing and sent Henry’s call to voicemail. “Henry was pretty much incapacitated, Jacob was down at the river and Malachi started prattling on, good God does he love to hear himself talk. Anyway, that’s when I sprained my ankle, he’s got a firm grip, even with a gunshot wound.”

He was uncharacteristically quiet and she took the opportunity to keep going.

“Jacob knocked him out from behind and his hired thug ran off…we’d seen Tantoo not 30 minutes before. She’d said that she’d heard you were on the Rez so once he promised that he could handle Henry I backtracked and went the opposite way. You found them, and….all the rest…” She finished vaguely with a shrug, knowing they’d converged 45 minutes after Mandy picked her up.

“Cady…” 

“You’re welcome, it was no problem.” She deadpanned. “I was thrilled to hike for 4 hours, swim through a river, get accosted, and run on an injured ankle, all to rescue your best friend and get the actual bad guy put in jail.” 

He made an exasperated sound and threw up his hands, “It wasn’t your job!”

“That never stops you from crossing lines.” She said, a bit of irritation in her voice. 

“I’m—” He started but she half stood and leaned against the table, grabbing at his shirt.

“I swear if you’re about to say ‘I’m the Sherriff’, I will pull a Vic and punch you.”

His mouth closed and Cady slid back in her chair, noting that while he seemed pissed, he was keeping it together pretty well. “Now that you know about all of that,” she continued, pausing to meet his eyes, “on a personal note, I’m seeing someone.”

She waited, watching his face as he processed what she was saying. “Well….that’s, good. I hope.” He said.

His attempt to at least pretend to be supportive was a big step in the right direction and she laughed a little as she tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “I should just rip the band-aid off right?” She asked.

“Therapist would say so, does that means it’s going to hurt?” 

“Honestly? You’re going to be…unhappy.” She shrugged as he raised an eyebrow. “I love you, but I don’t make life decisions based on whether or not you’re going to like them.” He twitched a bit at the implication, and she knew he’d understood her meaning. 

He gestured at her, that classic hand waving that said, go on, and her stomach did somersaults as she charged ahead. “Jacob. I’m seeing Jacob, romantically.” She clarified, mimicking his earlier statement.

The room was totally silent. She felt like she was a too tightly wound clock, waiting for the spring to pop as she watched him open and close his mouth a few times.

His fingers were white knuckled around one of the coffee mugs, so she got up and cleared the table of the other 3. If he was going to throw a tantrum he didn’t need ammo.

“Try…not to break that, please.” She said as she filled up one side of the sink, letting the mugs soak.

“I can’t stop you.” He mumbled from behind her. 

She turned around, watching as he shifted in what she hoped was some sort of attempt to keep his temper in check. “No, you can’t.” She agreed. “But you could let this be a wedge between us… like last time or…”

“Or?” 

Cady crossed her arms, leaning against the counter briefly before moving forward and plucking the last mug out of his grasp. “Or, we can find a way to move forward.” 

That seemed to perturb him, and his face dropped into a scowl. “That’s what the damn therapist says too.”

Her shoulders heaved with a silent laugh as she submerged the mug and turning back she saw an actual smile briefly flit across his face before he was serious again as he watched her sit back down.

“Are you…being treated well? Are you happy?” 

His query wasn’t really acceptance, she knew that in a week when he’d reconciled with the idea they’d be having yet another conversation but she was still impressed that he hadn’t flown off the handle yet. “I wouldn’t tolerate anything less than that,” She began, and before she could continue the sound of the doorbell chimed loudly through the house.

“Let’s just show up at Cady’s house, she won’t effing mind.” She shouted, not even bothering to get up as she heard the door unlock and open. 

Henry walked into the kitchen, two bags in one hand, “In my defense, I did try to call first. Once we got here, I realized why you didn’t answer.”  


“We?” She said, miffed, even though she knew damn who was coming next. Sure enough the door closed and Jacob stopped in the doorway hold a tray of coffees.

“It wasn’t my idea.” He assured her as he handed her the tray and Henry chuckled.

“No, I am afraid it was mine.” Henry said offhand as he deposited the bags on the counter. “By the way, he continued, turning to Walt, “Victoria is not pleased, she says, and I quote, That’s the last fucking time I tell you anything about Cady’s location, asshole.” 

Cady smothered a giggle as she watched her Dad hunch his shoulders and rub his neck. “Shit.” He pushed his chair back and stood quickly, grabbing his hat.

“Stay?” She asked, as he pulled it down, straightening the brim.

He finished putting on his jacket, and then shook his head. “Nah, I better go apologize or she won’t talk to me for a week.”

She nodded, Vic’s temper wasn’t something to poke at. “Yeah…that’s about right. What about, breakfast…tomorrow?” She tried to keep her face impassive as she felt a pull on her braid. “All…three of us.” She added as she watched him look over to Jacob.

He jammed his hands in his pocket and squinted at her, “Alright Punk,” he conceded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not next but at some point I want to tackle all the super dramatic ways Walt can find out, because why the hell not lol!


End file.
